


Ice

by dreamcp



Series: KlanceWeek2k16 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Decisions, Fluff, M/M, Snow, and lance is left flustered, in which keith saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7708504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcp/pseuds/dreamcp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance finds himself in a... sticky situation, and finds help in the form of a new, attractive acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of KlanceWeek2k16: prompts were ice/fire and I of course chose ice. This is probably my favorite out of all the fics I've written for this week. Thanks for reading!

“I'm not sure it was a good idea anymore, bro,” Hunk says uncertainly.

Lance ignores him and pulls his jacket closer to himself. The cold wind bites at his exposed skin. Snow seeps into his shoes and soaks his feet. He's still not quite adjusted to the cooler weather, even after three years at college. 

“You really didn't have to do this, man,” Hunk tries again. 

“It’th a liddle late now,” Lance retorts. Or at least, he tries. It's difficult to get his point across with his tongue currently stuck to a street lamp.

It started with a dare from one of the guys living in his dorm, probably to tease him about not being used to the cold yet. Lance stupidly refused to back down, and here they were, Lance stuck to a pole and Hunk totally lost on how to help. 

Lance tugs experimentally with his tongue and let out a pained yelp. Yeah, he'd rather not tear off part of his tongue if he can help it. He laments not remembering to bring his hot cocoa with him; that might have helped a little bit.

Hunk is still fretting over what to do. Finally he decides to just call for help: “Hey Shiro, are you busy? We kinda need some help…”

Lance rubs his hands together to dispel the cold. His fingers are numb. He doesn't like to admit his mistakes, but this was definitely a bad idea. Not that his stubbornness will allow him to tell that to anyone else.

At least the campus is empty right now. The novelty of snow wore off pretty quick, and everyone is doing their best to stay inside and keep warm. Lance really wishes he was inside too.

Another gust of wind sends chills all through Lance’s body. He thinks absentmindedly that people have it all wrong when they say the afterlife is filled with fire; hell has got to be frozen over.

“Need some help?” A new voice asks from behind him. It's an unfamiliar man’s voice, and Lance winces. This is not the way to make a good first impression. More importantly though, Lance is currently unable to explain himself. Did this guy honestly see Lance with his tongue stuck to a pole and think he could get a proper answer?

“I’m thtuck,” Lance manages. A snort follows from the voice.

“I can see that.”

Lance pouts, or tries to anyway. Then he hears Hunk’s footsteps approaching, and a small wave of relief washes over him. Hunk steps up to the stranger and engages in conversation.

“Hey, um, I'm Hunk. That idiot over there is Lance,” Hunk starts. Lance lets out a sound of protest that goes unnoticed by the other two. “This is a little weird, I know.”

“Keith,” says the mystery guy. “I saw you guys from my dorm room and knew what was up. You're not the first ones to do this, believe me.”

“Does it really happen that often?” Hunk asks, surprised.

“A bunch of college kids plus below-freezing temperatures and a steady supply of alcohol? This happens all the time. I've seen it, like, four times this month already.”

Lance is irritated now. He's going to die on this pole, and Hunk and his new best bud are totally ignoring him. Also, he took the bet sober; he doesn’t need alcohol to make bad decisions. He tries to turn and face the two a little bit, but he tugs on his tongue by accident and hisses in pain. 

“Oh! Right,” Hunk says. He sounds a little embarrassed. “Is there any chance you could help us? I've got our friend Shiro on the way, but he's still ten minutes out.”

“No wonder you two looked familiar, I know Shiro too. Anyway, I've got this,” replies the other guy— Keith, Lance recalls. Lance hears a metallic sound as the guy holds something up, and guesses it’s a thermos. Then the snow crunches as two pairs of footsteps approach him, and suddenly there's a body on either side of him.

A hot liquid is poured onto his tongue, one that Lance identifies as coffee. It's a sharp contrast to the chill of winter, and it burns his tongue. But finally, _finally,_ his tongue detaches from the pole and he pulls away. Lance is a free man.

“Fuck, man!” He says to no one in particular. “Fuck!”

“You're welcome,” deadpans Keith. Lance turns to face him and forgets both his retort and the pain in his mouth because _woah,_ this guy is good-looking. Like, really good-looking.

Lance recognizes him as a friend of Shiro’s. They've met before at a few parties, but only briefly, and they'd never talked. Keith’s got long black hair, and somehow he’s the only person Lance has ever met that 1. has a mullet in this day and age and 2. actually manages to pull it off. He looks like he came out in a rush, wearing only two layers to combat the cold, a red cropped jacket over a black t-shirt. His exposed skin is red from the frigid wind, but his eyes are bright and beautiful. This guy is _really_ attractive.

Lance zones out for just a bit too long, and when he snaps out of it he finds both Hunk and Keith giving him a weird look, Hunk long-suffering and Keith unreadable. The pain in his tongue returns and Lance takes advantage of it to regain control of the situation (and his thoughts).

“Um, yeah, thanks,” he says, then winces. “Ow. Man, that hurts.”

“Maybe you'll be smarter next time and not go make out with lampposts,” Keith smirks. Lance narrows his eyes. This guy is definitely laughing at him.

“I'll have you know I never back down from a challenge,” Lance says, moving into Keith’s personal space. Annoyingly, Keith is unfazed by the intimidation. “I have honor and a reputation to defend. The ladies love that stuff.”

“Do they now?” Keith asks. He sounds amused.

“Absolutely,” sniffs Lance. But he finds his tongue hurts more after his little speech, and takes a step back. “Though after this I might have to take a break from charming anyone.”

“Oh yeah, what a shame,” mumbles Hunk. “Your ‘legendary’ kissing skills will be sorely missed.”

Keith looks back and forth at the two of them while Lance does his best to ignore Hunk. He licks his lips, and suddenly Lance can't look away. Keith's lips are pretty chapped. He could probably use some chapstick or something, unless he wants to keep licking his lips. That would get tiring after awhile, though; maybe Lance could do it for him—

Keith coughs. Lance starts and meets his eyes. Keith scrutinizes him, examining his face closely. Then his gaze wanders down across Lance’s figure.

Finally Keith looks back up. “Well,” he begins, and Lance is already on edge. “Maybe when your tongue recovers, you could look me up. I'm wondering what’s so ‘legendary’ about your kissing.”

Lance stops breathing. His face _burns_. Holy shit, this attractive guy is basically asking to make out with him. And that's after seeing Lance attached to a lamppost by the tongue.

Keith appears pleased with the effect his words have left. He turns to leave with a wave and walks off. Lance is left breathless and blushing. Hunk whistles.

“Damn bro, you gonna take him up on that?”

“Sh-shut up,” Lance retorts, pulling his jacket up to hide his face. Hunk slaps him on the back with a laugh.

“I bet Shiro would be willing to give you his number, I think they're roommates. Maybe even his dorm key, if you're lucky.”

“Oh my god shut up!”


End file.
